Awakening
by Nestleupwithcoldwater
Summary: The trials and suffering of a young teen seeking the Varden
1. Chapter 1

**Awakening**

This story takes place some fourteen years before Eragon's birth. These are the trials of a young man seeking to reach the Varden. Our story begins.

**Town**

The sunlight floated down into Brand's lofty dwelling in the barn. He ruffled his mocha colored hair, making sure it was messy enough, yawned, stretched, wiped the sleep out of his midnight blue eyes, and clambered down the ladder onto the barn floor. The chickens rushed on him, intent to get him away from their coop and he lazily booted one across the barn. He lumbered into a small hut and rummaged around. He grabbed a couple pieces of bread and trotted out the door.

A rather large dog lumbered out from behind He took a ravenous chunk out of the stale bread and gave the rest to his dog, Wulf. The dog pranced around him, eager for more, but they were a poor and he had naught any to give to Wulf. The dog looked saddened but followed his owner into the underbrush.

He walked warily through the underbrush and burst out on the main road. He had started towards a small village in the distance when a stone, the size of a marble, rebounded off the back of his head. He turned, reflexes quite catlike, to face Gerrard, a small, round-faced boy, with a goofy grin on his face.

"Bout time you got up" said the boy accusingly

Brand grinned sheepishly "I would have been up earlier if it hadn't been for you throwing stones into my loft all night, you stupid lummox."

The grin slid off the boys face "What does lummox mean?" he stood there looking stupid for a time before saying "Are we off to the town again Brand?"

"Aye, we're off to the village again," Brand responded "maybe this time you won't get slapped by that rotund gal you fancy mate."

"Her name is Mari-Lou thanks very much." He rushed at Brand and the two of them wrestled for a moment before they strolled into the dimly lit, scattered village.


	2. Chapter 2

**Desolation**

As the two boys entered the town they saw several of the King's men walking through the streets. Odd as this was, they paid no heed to the fact that they were being watched. They entered the tavern to get a quick drink, though at the ages of seventeen, both were allowed a small bottle of brandy. Wulf, however, was given a bowl of pig entrails that the butcher had no use for. The dog wolfed it down greedily (ironic really) and sat down near his master. Brand drank slowly while he mulled over the soldiers. Surely they meant no harm! But the soldiers were known for pillaging towns to the west, but this was the east, surely the laws would differ. The tavern keeper was closing down and he quickly ushered the boys outside. This quickly caught the attentions of the soldiers, and they approached the boys Wulf growled menacingly. The soldier looked down at the dog a kicked it fiercely. The dog sprung into the air and quickly grabbed the man's jugular, ripping it out and spewing blood all over Brand and Gerrard. Gerrard's face was crossed with a look of disgust. The dog let go and circled the other men tirelessly. One of the men un-slung his crossbow and nocked an arrow. Brand tried to call the dog back, but, it was determined to defend its master. While the dog kept the men occupied, Brand crept over and picked up the dead soldiers sword. He looked at the men, two left now and he weighed the consequences. Now that his dog had killed a man, he and Gerrard would assuredly be put to death. He raised the sword high a smashed it into the second mans head. He gave a short gurgle sound, blood spurted out of his eyes, nose and mouth, and he crumpled into the dirt road. The crossbow man turned quickly and fired too early the arrow whistled past Brand and made a soft thump behind him. Wulf jumped at the man and took a savage bite out of the back of the neck of him. Brand ran forward and said to the man.

"Nobody hurts my dog." He took the sword and plunged it into the heart of the man. "So where were you all this time Gerrard?" He swung around and dropped his sword. Gerrard lay against a branch with a crossbow bolt in his chest. His eyes were faced towards Brand, yet, they did not move. Brand crossed over and closed his eyelids. It was a cruel ending to a good person, but he had no time to mourn him. He quickly searched the soldier's body and unlatched his sheath, and slid the sword silently into it. He slung it over his back, ready to sling it out if needed. He ran to the stable and with a savage swing, the rope holding a black mare was ripped it half. He mounted the mare and called for Wulf to follow him. They rode deep into the surrounding forest and only turned to look at the burning village behind them.


End file.
